Let Us Recommence
by SecretRose23
Summary: The stage is set. Everything is in motion. Ghosts from the past have returned. New monsters have arisen. A new romance has everyone on edge. What will the Shelby family do? This is the sequel to New Beginnings and a continuation of events from that fanfic. (Rated Teen)
1. Alfie In The Lion's Den

_Come on Alfie, you can do this. You've stared death in the face before. What's one more hour with tea and crumpets?_

Alfie surveyed the house. He wasn't an architect, but he could tell that it cost money what with the pillars and the… trim or whatnot. Again, not his area of expertise.

 _"_ Nice place. Said it was your aunt's now?" he asked, giving Ada a sideways glance as she squeezed his left hand in a comforting gesture. Moral support and all that. Little did she know his unease didn't stem from the fact that he was meeting people important to her, but from the knowledge that he was walking into the wide open jaws of the Shelby clan.

 _One of them at least. The mysterious Aunt._

He held his cane with his right hand, rolling the tip around in his fingers as he resisted the urge to chew the inside of his cheek raw. Should've stuffed his mouth with chewing tobacco and made a show of spitting it at the side of the house.

 _Nah._ He wasn't a heathen and he did care for Ada. He wanted to be respectable and he was going to be bloody respectful to his girl's family.

"My Aunt Polly. She's been dying to meet you since the wedding. I told her all about you while I was there."

"Hmmm."

That had been a nice day in the hospital, stewing over the knowledge that Ada was a Shelby off to attend Thomas Shelby's grand wedding. Surprisingly, he had adjusted rather quickly to the information, adapted. The revelation hadn't changed his feelings for Ada in the slightest, which had also developed since his release from that hell-hole of a prison. She'd come back from the wedding and gotten him discharged. She drove him back to her place and he had learned she was one hell of a driver, an absolute speed-demon. On numerous occasions she had to slow down significantly so she didn't jostle him and have to send him back to that hospital for restitching. Heavens above, did she drive like that with the little fellow on board?

She could have dropped him off at a street corner and he would have shuffled back to his shop without complaint, but she wouldn't hear of it. Shelby stubbornness and all. He had found himself on a makeshift bed in a cramped apartment, telling the little lad some story off the top of his head before he scampered off to bed, kissing Ada goodnight, and sleeping like a log, even without the morphine. The next morning, Ada had made him breakfast. She was one hell of a cook. One hell of a woman. Now he was being introduced into one hell of a family.

"Look at you!" Ada exclaimed. "You're nervous."

 _That wouldn't even begin to describe it. Not at all._ After divining that Ada Thorne was actually Ada Shelby, Thomas Shelby's sister, Alfie wasn't quite sure how to handle himself in the situation.

 _Suppose I'll make it up as I go along._

"I'm a bit jittery," he said lightly, craning his neck from side to side, as if he were stretching his neck before entering a boxing ring. He hoped it passed for fidgeting and not a fighting stance.

 _Aunt Polly. Alright what venomous female snake am I going to have to wrangle with today?_ He hoped to all that was holy that the woman didn't have Shelby's dead eyes. The door opened.

"We're here!" Ada cried, hugging her aunt. Alfie came face to face with that woman who had been going on about burning buildings and armageddon the night he was attacked. Dressed in black, with a red lace rose in the center, she resembled a spider: A black widow.

 _That's it. Christ, Mary, Joseph, and the sweet Lord himself are having one giant laugh at my expense._

 _Time for me to play along._

"Polly, what a pleasure." He extended his left hand and shook it in a vice like grip, plastering a grin all over his face. She plastered just as phony an expression, but Alfie could see the venom in her coal black eyes.

"Mr. Solomons."

"Call me Alfie."

"I wasn't expecting you two so soon. Are you are feeling alright Mr. Solomons?" Her eyes traveled to the cane in his hand that he was using top prop himself up and back to his face. If this had been a business meeting and she were a competitor and a man, he might have been able to get away with whacking it in her face, but circumstances were quite different.

 _Viperous woman._

"Well, come on in, but wipe your boots first," she said and Alfie saw the contempt.

 _Oh this woman knows who I am._

Without breaking eye contact, Alfie obliged, scraping his boots against the door-step before crossing the threshold. He took stock of his surroundings. There were pictures of Ada and Karl when he was a lot smaller on walls in the hall. Tasteful and expensive. The room Polly referred to as the parlor wasn't too shabby:decent furniture, decent decorations, decent amount of bootlegged liquor he suspected was locked in some of those mahogany cabinets. Ada pulled at his coat and guided him over to a group of chairs around a small table.

 _Here we go._

He braced himself for the onslaught of small-talk as he took a seat. Aunt Shelby took a seat, prim and proper and regal while shooting him venomous looks and offering them all….

 _Tea and crumpets it is._ Alfie resisted the urge to laugh, but he did smile as he laced his fingers together and made himself comfortable on the cushions. Well, as comfortable as he could be. He was still sore as hell.

The doorbell rang.

"Expecting someone?" he asked, staring Polly down.

"Oh, it's just my nephew, Tommy, dropping off some paperwork," the woman said lightly.

"Isn't he on his honeymoon?" Ada asked, sounding irritated.

"Business is business and needs to be done, isn't that right Mr. Solomons?"

"Alfie," Alfie said, eyeing her. He didn't like the way the woman said his last name, the S sounding like a simpering slithering noise slipping past a forked tongue. Not that the woman's teeth were bad, no. She was a surprisingly good looking woman for her age. She'd looked good in that shop, she looked good now, but she wasn't half as pretty as his girl sitting by his side.

 _My girl._

The two words popped into his brain and he felt completely comfortable with them. He glanced at Ada who met his eyes and he smiled at her, knowing it was driving the aunt into a frenzy as she gave him more dagger eyes. He heard the sound of the door opening followed by a, "Mrs. Shelby's in the parlor, Mr. Shelby." He heard the boots thudding down the hallway before the parlor door opened and Shelby appeared. Immediately, Aunt Polly was simpering over him, rising from her chair, and making a grand fuss about the devil's intrusion.

 _Strategically planned intrusion._

Ada looked less than thrilled at the unexpected arrival of her brother.

"Tommy, you're just in time for brunch," Polly was saying after offering him a drink and ordering a maid to take his coat as if he were the goddamn king of England.

"Morning Pol, Ada." Alfie met Shelby's eyes and saw a flicker of irritation, just a flicker before it was replaced with his characteristic dead eyed look.

"Who's this?"

That nearly made Alfie burst out laughing, but that wouldn't have been good, due to the stitches and the bandages that he didn't want to rip open.

"Tommy, this is Ada's friend, Alfie Solomons," Polly explained.

"Ah," was all Shelby said, before walking over and extending his hand. "You're a friend of Ada's, Mr. Solomons?"

Alfie didn't like it, this minimizing of his relationship with Ada, but he wasn't one to quibble over words, especially Shelby's words.

"Very good friend," he said, rising to his feet stiffly, and extending his hand. It gave him some satisfaction to stand a few inches taller than Shelby who didn't have any of his men around to make examples out of. There was some anger lurking in the depths of those dead eyes at the thought of him being on very friendly terms with his sister.

"I heard about your attack," Shelby said. "I heard Ada helped you through it."

"That's right," Ada said, almost challengingly, her eyes narrowed on her brother and that just added a whole new level of tension in this already tense room.

Polly cleared her throat. "Everyone, shall we proceed to the dining room?" She didn't even ask Shelby if he could stay, just assumed he was joining in.

 _Or knows it._

They filed out of the room and headed back down the hall to the dining room. Ada and Polly walked into the room first, it was only respectful to let the ladies pass after all. Alfie, due to the narrow doorway, found himself brushing elbows with Tommy as they tried to simultaneously cross into the room, each not trusting exposing his back to the other.

"After you Mr. Solomons," Tommy said.

"No, after you," Alfie said, extending his hand in a wide motion. Tommy's lips curled, exposing a little of that contempt before he passed into the dining room, which had a nice mahogany table and chairs and look at that, a chandelier right overhead.

Polly and Shelby took their seats at the table. Tommy at the head so Alfie had the luxury of looking directly into the devil's face, and Polly at an angle, sitting to Tommy's right. Alfie strode over to the chair next to Polly and pulled it out for Ada, aware of the four pairs of Shelby eyes on him as he took his own seat, closest to the door and furthest from those two serpents. Enemies or not, he knew how to be chivalrous and it won him an enchanting smile from his girl. As soon as they were seated, servants came out bearing trays of…..

"Do you eat meat?"

A questioning look crossed Ada's face at her aunt's bizarre question.

"Well, Solomons… I thought you were of the Jewish faith. I'm sorry if the assumption was offensive…." Her voice trailed off as the servants set the tray of pork shank smack in the center of the table, followed by bowls of bread, cheese, and the salad and vegetables.

Alfie was dangerously close to ripping his stitches as laughter rose inside him.

 _That right there is bloody comedic gold._

"My father was.. Of the faith…" he said, making a pretense of coughing and covering his mouth with his fist as he held back a laugh. "Mother wasn't, so technically, between you and me, I'm flexible and partial to a good piece of meat."

To prove his point, he reached over to the tray, cut the pork off the shank, and inserted it into his mouth. Honestly he didn't care for meat, but when in Rome, do as the Roman's do or something along those lines. And those lines about lineage, not entirely honest, but Ada clearly didn't care.

 _Who has pork for brunch?_

The woman was clearly trying to stick it to him.

He saw a look of relief cross Ada's face. Alfie had seen the shrine and the crucifixes on his way in and apparently, Ada was worried about conflicts of faith.

 _Bloody Catholic gypsy hypocrite._

Did her family know of her little rendezvous with the fraudulent fortune teller?

"Do you have family in the area?" Polly asked as he piled more food onto his own plate and they all proceeded to dig into the food.

"Not in the area, no. We spread out." He made a gesture with both his hands spreading them far apart from each other.

"Spread out?" Polly asked, trying to force him into elaborating.

"Moved away after the parents passed. God bless em all."

"You run a bakery?" Shelby asked, switching gears. He hadn't touched any of the meat and was picking at a salad unenthusiastically. No one had served drinks other than iced-tea and water. Someone didn't want to share their liquor with a rival.

Alfie carved more of the meat off and put it in his mouth. He chewed for a moment, eyeing Tommy intently, swallowed, brought the provided napkin to his lips, set it down, and then answered the question.

"That's right."

"I assume you primarily sell bread."

"White bread. Brown bread. All sorts of bread," Alfie said, never breaking eye contact with Shelby who honestly didn't look like married life was treating him too well.

"Riveting," was Tommy's response. Alfie saw Ada shoot her brother a glare.

"Alfie's doing quite well for himself, Tommy, making an _honest_ living," she piped up. Alfie heard the slight emphasis on the word honest and smiled to himself.

There was a pause.

"So, what do you do for a living mate?" Alfie asked him.

"I'm a businessman."

"You and I, we're in the same boat mate. Baker, business man. It's all business."

"A different kind."

"Right, a different kind." Alfie wiped his mouth with the napkin. "Well, I appreciate the brunch. You have excellent cooks."

Polly gave him a thin smile and nothing flickered across Tommy's face this time. Truth be told, the chap seemed a bit blue, a little grey in the face.

Ada pushed her chair back, practically shoving the plate away from her in disgust and Alfie knew immediately she was not pleased.

"Alfie, why don't you wait by the door? There's something I need to discuss with Polly."

Alfie nodded, seeing the glint in Ada's eyes, that same glint he'd seen when she said she hoped Kincaid would be killed. He also noticed the omission of the word aunt. He rose to his feet and grabbed his cane, nodding at Polly and Tommy.

 _Well sweetheart I'll leave you to it._

She'd be able to deal with her family far better than he could in this situation and truth be told, he wanted to get out of this den before someone opened the can of worms about his true occupation in front of Ada.


	2. Ada

"What is the matter with you two?" Ada hissed, looking from Polly to Tommy. "You're supposed to make him feel welcome, not attack him."

"Attack him? Ada, don't be melodramatic," Polly retorted, sliding the dishes closer together and rising from the table. The two of them had barely touched any of the food, which was incredibly wasteful in Ada's opinion.

"I didn't know he was Jewish,' Ada cut her off defensively. "Honestly, I didn't think that would be an issue."

She came from family where her brothers were part of a criminal organization and now they were going to lament about a man's faith? They were all hypocrites anyway, why were they objecting now?"

"Ada, the name.." Polly went on.

"He's a hardworking good man who comes from that faith. Just like we're hardworking Catholics. It doesn't matter. You accepted Freddie and he was an atheist."

"I don't think Alfie's religious inclinations are the problem Ada," Tommy said dryly.

Ada turned to face him as he spoke up for the first time.

"And you…. ribbing him for being a baker and sitting there all smug. Since when are you so high and mighty? He's working his way up, just like you. He's even expanding his business."

"I'm sure he is."

Ada glared at him, hearing the dig in that.

"I don't have time for this. Karl's waiting and so if Alfie. I'm disappointed in both of you."

For the first time since Freddie died, she was happy and the two of them were acting peculiar. No, they were acting downright rude to a good man who had been through a terrible ordeal. She stormed out of the room, down the hall, grabbed her coat, and met Alfie on the doorstep.

"All set?" he asked, giving her a searching, worried look.

 _Poor thing._

He had done a good job not letting his insecurities get to him, but it must have been difficult being emasculated by her aunt and brother.

"I am so sorry," she said to him, linking her arm with his as they made their way to the car. "They can be so insufferable, but I expected them to behave better than that."

"No harm done I always say," he said, pulling her close. "How about we pick up the little lad and we all go to the park eh?"

"That sounds lovely," she said, resting her head on his shoulder and shrugging off her anger towards her family.

 _What do they know about anything? What do they know about happiness?_

Aunt Polly was always going on about something and Tommy, who was supposed to be celebrating his honeymoon, looked miserable.

"I'm alright love," Alfie said, kissing her on the cheek. "We're alright."

She looked at him.

 _We're alright._

"Better than alright," she said. "We're splendid."

He laughed at the reference and rubbed a hand across his beard. As promised, she had given him a shave, just enough to look presentable.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked, noticing that he was gripping his cane and he looked pale. "Are you sure a walk…"

"It'll do me good," he said, "fresh air, sunshine, flowers… we could have a picnic, let the little fellow fly a kite. He's got a kite doesn't he?"

"No… he's never flown a kite before," Ada said and she felt sad then as she thought of Karl not having a real childhood and never getting to know his own father.

"Well we have to change that. It's settled then. To the park we go! For the little lad's sake."

Ada smiled. Alfie was fond of Karl, she could tell and she felt relief run through her. She couldn't think of many men that she knew who would be so accepting of a child who wasn't their own.

"There's that pretty smile. Lights up your whole face."

"Stop it," she said, feeling her face flush.

"You're an angel from heaven."

"You're a tease," she shot back, linking his arm more tightly in her own.

"Right right. You're always right," he said, bobbing his head up and down in an exaggerated motion that made her laugh.

"Don't you forget it," Ada said, shrugging off her irritation and disappointment so that she could enjoy this beautiful day with her son and the man she was falling for.


	3. Polly

"Why didn't you tell her?" Polly hissed, peeping at the two retreating figures through the window. "She's defending a mobster."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Tommy countered. "You like to make a scene, why didn't you have at it? Break the news in your dining room?"

"This isn't a game, Tommy. Ada's being preyed upon by the charlatan and so is Karl. And by the way, aren't you supposed to be off on your honeymoon?

It wasn't like Tommy to come at her beck and call. Usually there was quite a bit of resistance. She expected a firm, "I'm on a holiday Pol," but here he was, assessing the mess with his sister.

"May and I have hit a little snag."

"A snag?"

Polly narrowed her eyes at him.

"Out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Thomas, spit it out. What's going on with you and May. I smell trouble so you'd best get it out."

"Grace is back in town."

"That traitorous bit…"

"Pol."

"Thomas Shelby I expected better from you. I swear if you did anything to sabotage your marriage by fraternizing with that woman I…."

"She's in trouble."

" _She's trouble. Damn it Thomas, don't ruin your one chance at happiness by dealing with that Irish tramp._

 _"_ Why don't we deal with the situation at hand, Pol?"

That was a clear attempt at evasion and frustrated Polly even more.

"How do you intend for us to do that? Christ, she's not even living in the house you paid for. She's in his territory. She managed to slip away unnoticed and return carrying on with…. that man."

Polly didn't even know what to make of Alfie Solomons. The man who had presented himself to her seemed entirely normal and not the bloodthirsty, sacrifice promoting barbarian who'd terrified that medium, not to mention, assaulted her own nephew.

"For all we know, that brute is living under Ada's roof with Karl. Your sister and nephew are in danger. This is what's important."

 _Not Grace and your marital problems._

"I completely agree."

Tommy looked at the closed door.

"So, when's the hit going to be?" she asked, trying to draw him out of his maudlin thoughts about Grace Burgess.

"One step at a time."

"Tommy, this isn't going to be like Churchill. He's not going to turn and run for a train. He's going to be here for a while. He might make a stand."

"Ada and Karl can't be around when it happens. That's all I know right now."

Polly studied him, her irritation turning into pity. She sighed.

"Tommy, you've got to make it work with May. For your sake it has to work."

 _And for the whole family's sake._

Tommy nodded.

"Need any help?" he asked, gesturing at the trays of food.

"Oh get out," Polly said. "Get back to your wife before she up and leaves you."

"Nice chat Pol," Tommy said dryly before striding out of the room. Polly raised her eyes to the ceiling.

 _Heaven help me._

Ada and Alfie, Tommy's self-sabotage, Arthur's drinking, Finn running wild…

 _At least John's in a better place._

It was a shock to her when she'd learned he'd patched up his relationship with Esme and brought her back into his life. Personally, she wouldn't have done it. She wasn't fond of Esme to say the least, but whatever made John happy and kept him from moping about, was fine by her. Of course Lizzie got the short end of the stick but…

 _You don't give a damn about Lizzie. You've got bigger fish to worry about, sharks like Alfie Solomons and that opportunistic Grace Burgess._

All of this chaos was occurring right on the eve of Tommy's expansion. This wasn't just personal, this was going to affect business. Michael could run the books well enough on a small-scale, but when it came to the big decisions, the strategic maneuvering, they needed Tommy. It always came back to Tommy and his clear headedness. He had to have his head on straight now with what was coming. Churchill was gone, but that didn't mean there weren't other players watching, waiting for her nephew to slip-up. His personal life couldn't affect their business moving forward. It just couldn't and she hoped he remembered that in the midst of all this nonsense. As for Ada, she wanted to shake the girl until her teeth rattled for being such a fool..

 _Everyone's a fool when they're in love._

She had been the same way with her own husband.

No, Solomons was to blame and she hoped Tommy dealt with him swiftly.

 _The man's using a cane._ Tommy could finish him off in his weakened state and if he didn't, she'd sure as hell make sure it was done. She would do anything and everything to keep Ada and Karl safe.

 _Should have poisoned his iced-tea._


	4. Watching Each Other Like Hawks

_"_ _I can't even look at you right now!"_

 _That was the first thing she had said to him before she turned and ran back up the stairs. The second she closed the door, she heard his footsteps thudding after her._

 _"_ _May!"_

 _He was too quick. He had already reached the handle and pushed his way through before she could lock it. At that point she was livid. No, she was beyond livid. She wanted to tear him apart after her undignified exit. She had just been too shocked for words, seeing Thomas and Grace standing there, coconspirators in some dastardly plot involving a child that Thomas was trying to cover up. It made her feel sick, this knowledge that he was going into this marriage with such a tremendous lie over his head, over both their heads, but she had to keep it together. She had to keep herself together…. Keep it…_

 _"_ _IS THAT BABY YOURS? WHEN THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?!"_

 _She didn't care that she was screaming. She had a right to scream. She was vaguely aware that he was trying to calm her down, placate her, but she didn't care. She shoved him away from her, creating space, giving herself space to process this information. She began pacing around the room, trembling, shaking._

 _May, compose yourself._

 _That's what her mother would say in her early days when she threw fits about having to wear petticoats and dresses for a formal dinner party instead of running around with the horses and chatting with her father's hired hands in the stables._

 _She had to calm herself down. She wasn't a raving lunatic or some crazed horse making dizzying circles in the ring. She had every right to be upset, but she had to salvage her self-respect and be dignified. She had temporarily given Grace the upper hand, given her the satisfaction of seeing her rival lose her head. That was going to change right now._

 _It took a tremendous effort and a significant amount of self-control to breathe and bite back her words, most of them expletives. After she had managed to compose herself enough, she began to speak again, before he could start making excuses. She had to ask a question, the first question that popped into her mind._

 _"_ _When you didn't show up after the races… were you off with her, in some back parlor…"_

 _Her voice trailed off at the sickening thought and the words tasted like poison on her tongue. She could barely get that question out. Thomas' eyes widened. She could see his face change as she uttered those words. He looked shocked that she would ask that._

 _"_ _You want to know why I didn't come back right after the races? It wasn't because of Grace. I was coming back for you. Campbell hired a group of assassins to drive me out into the middle of nowhere, shoot me, and throw me in an open grave. I thought I was going to die that day, but Churchill had a plant and shot my executioners. And I came back, for you."_

 _He tried bridging the gap between them, but May took another step back and he stopped trying to move towards her. Campbell, open grave, Churchill… it was all just words. After the fact, she realized what he had confessed, but in that moment, she barely heard it as her mind jumped from one thought to another._

 _"_ _That day when I showed you the goldfish and you wanted to end things between us… that was after you were with her. God, I am such an idiot!" She raised her hands and ran them through her hair._

 _"_ _May, you are not…"_

 _May stopped pacing, stopped moving, and looked directly at him as she realized there was something very important to say that he needed to hear._

 _"_ _Thomas, I married you. I know full well what you do for a living. God knows I have to deal with it every-day. I'm barely on speaking terms with my mother and it's the same way with my father. I'm surprised they haven't cut me out of their will. I married you. I exchanged vows with you, and Grace wasn't part of any agreement. You promised you were done with her."_

 _"_ _I didn't expect her to come back…."_

 _"_ _But she did! She keeps coming back in one form or another and it is on you to deal with her. Find a way to get her out of your life. If you can't do that then…. Then I can't be part of your life."_

Their night of wedding bliss had turned sour after that, resulting in Thomas sleeping in one of the empty rooms, and Grace being shown unceremoniously to another one on the first floor. Now, Thomas was gone. He'd gotten a call from his Aunt Polly early in the morning. Needing a distraction or a way to come to terms with her ultimatum, he had left. But he hadn't thought of what to do with the skeleton in his closet who was currently sitting in her parlor, daintily sipping a drink and making her presence felt in all corners of the house. May did not even want to begin to contemplate what her staff thought. After her screaming rampage and having time to cool-off, she decided to channel her anger, to redirect it at the root of the problem, which was the woman sitting across from her.

She sat in her armchair with her arms folded across her chest. She was in a foul mood. Her post-wedding plans had not entailed facing the ghost from Thomas' past. In fact, she'd thought of a leisurely breakfast and a horseback ride, a lunch out on the town, maybe a trip out of the city for their honeymoon. All of those plans were dashed because of Grace Burgess or whatever the hell her last name was.

They watched each other like hawks, ready to sink their talons into each other. It was so silent that May could hear the tea-cup clink as Grace set it back down in its saucer. One of the maids wasn't sure whether to be civil or not, so she'd timidly offered the woman tea. Grace had accepted the drink, as if she were a guest, someone who was welcome.

"Is any of it real? May asked after a long stretch of silence. "Dead husband, Thomas's baby, being in trouble?," she rattled off. "Do you want money? Do you want me to take out my checkbook and pay you?"

"I don't want your money."

Grace straightened her back, doing her best to look supremely offended.

"No, you just want my husband."

 _Your husband who admitted he was nearly assassinated._ She hadn't batted an eye at that last night and that made her feel guilty. If she hadn't been so angry and leaping to the conclusion that everything coming out of his mouth was a lie, she might have felt sympathetic in the moment. Maybe, if she hadn't just learned that another woman was pregnant with Thomas' child she would have been more receptive.

"I'm sorry," Grace said suddenly.

May's eyes narrowed, analyzing the woman's face, which was inscrutable.

 _Sorry for what, for attempting to destroy my marriage? Why are you pretending to apologize?_

"No, you're not."

She leaned forward and laced her fingers together, her eyes never leaving Grace's face.

"Let me make something very clear to you, Grace. You will be very sorry if you try to insert yourself back into Thomas' life."

A look of disgust crossed Grace's face.

"You'll hurt me? Tommy wouldn't allow it."

"This has nothing to do with Thomas. This is between you and me."

Grace wasn't stupid. May could tell. The moment they had met at the races and she had seen Grace all dolled up waiting for Thomas, she knew that she was dealing with a stone-cold bitch.

"Threatening a woman with child…" Grace shook her head, the look of disgust becoming more pronounced.

 _Don't play the victim._

"See, here's the thing. I don't think that's Thomas' baby. I think you're clinging to the only opportunity you have to keep him in your life."

"I loved my husband."

"Of course you did. Funny how he ends up dead right around the time of our wedding. Did you see the announcement in the papers? Did you kill him afterwards?"

May wasn't quite sure why she said that. It was too extreme of an accusation she supposed, but she had lived with extremes lately. She still had nightmares about what she had to do to Kincaid to keep herself and her people safe. She had nagging thoughts about Thomas leaving and never coming back. Living with Thomas was living a life of extremes, but she loved him. God she loved him still even after last night. Maybe Grace had killed her husband, maybe not. May did not care as long as the woman got out of her house before lunch.

"I have had enough," Grace said.

"No, I have had enough. I have had enough of you staying in my house, interfering in my marriage, and constantly ruining Thomas' chance at happiness. If you loved him, you would leave."

"Don't you think I've tried? I tried. I got married. I went to America and do you know what? He called me when he heard I was in London. He asked to see me!"

May stared at her, not sure if she believed the words coming out of her mouth. Grace gave a bitter little laugh.

"Oh I'll tell you all about that night. He took me out to see Charlie Chaplin. We had a grand time and then we came back, had a few drinks and made love…"

May rose abruptly to her feet, rage welling inside her. She knew it was what Grace wanted, to rattle her, upset her, to put her in the most unfavorable light in case Thomas walked right through that door, but she wasn't going to fall into that trap. Not this time.

"Get out," she said through gritted teeth. Grace remained sitting.

"I'll get out when I'm good and ready. I'll get out when Tommy says."

"No, you'll get out when I tell you because this is my house."

"I'm the mother of Tommy's child."

"Get out of the chair and out of my house."

Grace rose, lifting her head in defiance, as if she were being dignified. They both froze when the sound of a key turning in the lock reached their ears.

"I'm assuming that's Tommy," Grace said, like a proud queen. Let's wait and hear what he has to say, shall we?"

She smoothed out her tattered skirt and looked as if she were going to sit back down.

"I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were you," May said, watching her with narrowed eyes. "Let's hear what Thomas has to say."

Grace straightened her back, a challenging look in her eyes.

They waited.


	5. Tommy's Dilemma

Tommy lit a cigarette on Pol's doorstep, taking a drag and inhaling the smoke. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before tossing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his heel.

 _Time to face the music._

Or the chopping block. He had to face his problem head on. He couldn't avoid it any longer. Pol was right. He had to make it work with May, no question about it. He didn't want to live through another argument like the one last night.

Christ it was only one night. One night and less than a day. May was furious with him. Grace was back, his sister was having brunch with Alfie Solomons. To top that off, the shovels were back, picking at his brain in his sleep. He hadn't slept and he doubted he was going to until he solved his problem.

 _You've got to deal with Grace somehow._

He walked to his car, scanning the streets out of habit. He drove to May's, wondering if he could call this house home after what had happened. He could easily see May rounding up her lawyers and serving him papers for an annulment.

He drove up the long drive and parked by the door. He turned the key in the lock and paused for a moment, listening.

 _Too quiet._

They must have terrified the servants so much that they were all huddling in their quarters, waiting until they had to serve one of the main meals.

He inhaled deeply, opened the door, and walked down the hall.

"They're in the parlor, Mr. Shelby," Anne, the maid said timidly as she popped out from behind the coatrack, ready to take the article of clothing from him. Tommy shook his head, indicating he wanted to keep his coat on and walked towards the parlor.

When he opened the door, the two of them were standing stock still, looking in his direction. May stood closer to the door. She was wearing her riding breeches, shirt, and boots. Grace stood by one of the chairs in her tattered clothes from the night before.

They were looking at him, had been expecting him, the man of the hour.

 _Alright then._

"We're going for a drive," he said to Grace. His eyes then traveled to May whose face was stony, her eyes narrowed on him. A look of disbelief crossed Grace's face, he could see it, but he didn't dwell on it, didn't allow himself to feel pity, not in front of May, who was watching him closely.

"Come on, out the door," he urged, seeing that Grace wasn't moving.

" I'll be back in an hour," he added, nodding at May. She nodded stiffly back at him. There was no welcoming smile on her lips, but she did look somewhat relieved.

He wished he could say something normal. He wished they could have woken up together and said good morning and been happy. Instead, he was faced with this scene in front of him with two women that looked like they wanted to rip each other to pieces. He wished Grace hadn't crossed his threshold and he wished he didn't feel so damn bad about telling her to get out.

"Grace," he said, one more time, firmly this time. Finally, Grace accepted that she was not going to be staying in the house. She walked past him without a word or a look. He glanced back at May then followed Grace out into the hall and out to the front of the drive.

He lit another cigarette on the walk over to the car.

" Can I have one?" Grace asked, stopping to lean against the side of the car. Tommy glanced back at the house. May was watching from the parlor window, he could see her face.

 _Better make this quick._

"No," he said, around the cigarette in his teeth, taking another drag before tossing it onto the grass. Grace opened the door and sat down in the passenger's side. Tommy started the car and they drove away. Everything would have been fine, if not for the traffic.

Grace sat with her arms crossed, grim-faced as she stared at the line of cars backed up. She didn't ask where they were going. So, Tommy decided to tell her as he resisted the urge to slam his hand hard on the horn. Some damned festival was going on, just had to be going on while he was trying to take care of this situation.

"There's a hotel. I know a guy, owes me a favor, works at the desk, he'll get you anything you want. Anything you need, you just ask him, his name's Ward, Jim Ward."

She laughed bitterly. "You're just going to shove me in a room, hide me away? That's what you're going to do to me?"

He ignored her.

"You know, your wife threatened…"

"Don't talk about May."

He was drawing a line there. May had the right to be angry with him. He had put her in a difficult position and he wasn't going to sit here and listen to Grace criticize her.

"She let you stay in the house. You should be grateful for that."

No response there. He was hoping the silence would continue, but that was not to be as Grace found another topic of conversation to pursue.

"I think I know who did it.. who killed him," she said. Tommy assumed the him being referred to was her husband.

 _The American banker. Dead American banker._

"I was thinking it was Campbell…"

 _No, Campbell's dead._

"I thought it was one of his men, but I.. .I think it goes higher than that.. to Churchill."

 _Right, because you're a spy who turned._

Tommy hit his hand on the steering wheel, blaring the horn at the car in front of him.

"Damn it, Grace! You want me to take on the whole parliament?"

Silence.

"You don't care," she murmured when his blood had stopped boiling. " You don't care about me. That's apparent."

Tommy didn't look at her. He felt his teeth grind together. He didn't want to look at her because if he looked at her, really looked at her and she looked at him, then he'd start to let her in, not completely, but enough so he could never get her out of his life. Then he'd lose May and he'd lose a lot of peoples' respect, including his own. He'd made a promise to May and he intended to keep it. May was the future and Grace was the past and a history he could not repeat.

 _But the child._

 _How do I know it's even mine?_

He looked over at her then, down at her abdomen. He couldn't help it. When he looked up, he had seconds to apply the breaks so he didn't bump into the vehicle in front of him. They came to a full stop and that's when Grace decided to open the door and walk out into the street.

"Grace!"

He swore as she ran off and the car horns behind him started blaring as she weaved her way backwards. He made a u turn at a clearing up ahead, nearly scraping the side of his car against another vehicle in the process, and managed to keep her in his field of view as he drove slowly behind her. He realized she was going to the Garrison.

 _Damn it._

She just had to go back to the one place that would bring back all the memories of the two of them, of her standing on that chair.

 _"Happy or Sad?"_

 _"Sad."_

 _"But I'll warn you. It'll break your heart."_

 _"Already broken."_

He managed to find a spot to park, got out, slammed the car door and ran into the Garrison. She was making a beeline straight for the counter.

The regulars stopped what they were doing when they saw the two of them, together again. She made a beeline right to that bottle, which was still there with cobwebs all around it.

"Don't you dare," he said, snatching the bottle from her and pushing it far down the counter.

"It's a special occasion. I'm celebrating! We should all be celebrating!"

He knew what she was going to do. She was going to reveal to everyone tom dick and harry and potential spy that she was carrying his child.

He grabbed her roughly by the arm.

"We're leaving."

"That's no way to treat a woman, Thomas. I'm the mo…

He clamped a hand over her mouth.

"She's drunk," he said as she struggled and he knew this put him in a bad light. "Too drunk for her own good, am I right boys?" he asked, cracking a highly unusual and fake grin, which the regulars fell for.

"Oy, Tommy she's a wild one ain't she?" They said; the drunk goodnatured idiots, as he nudged her over to the door.

"Tommy what's goin…" Arthur and John appeared, drawn by the increase in noise. They looked at him, speechless at the sight of Grace.

"What in bloody hell.." Arthur began.

"Got to run," Tommy said, pulling Grace back and practically shoving her out the door. The smile died from his face as they made their way back out onto the street.

"Get back in the car."

Her eyes were blazing, her face pale and furious.

"You don't get to tell me what to do and shove me around! She said, pushing him away from her. "You can't tell me what to talk about. You're not my husband. You don't own me!"

He grabbed both her wrists to keep her from lashing out at him.

"Grace, there's an easy way and a hard way. The easy way is you get back in that car."

"And the hard way?" She asked, goading him, challenging him.

"Get in the damn car."

It took all his self-control to keep his voice even. He let go of her wrists. Thankfully, Grace listened and stormed back to the car. Then they started all over again with the silence all the way to the hotel.

"I'm going to wait here, until you're inside, understand?" he said, pulling up alongside the building, seeing bellboys and valets. He glanced down at his watch and realized he was going to be late getting back.

"How kind of you," she sneered. She was about to open the car door when he said,

"Empty your pockets."

She turned back to look at him.

"What?"

"You were in May's house." He left the rest unsaid, but she knew what he meant and her nostrils flared.

"You think I stole something from that stuck up…"

"Grace."

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her dress, a hideous dress, not like the dress at the races or that red dress.

"See? Nothing." She pushed the door open, turned around and spread her arms out in an exaggeratedly wide motion. She flung her hands in the air before dropping them back down to her sides and shaking her head.

"Honestly, Thomas, I don't know who you are anymore."

"I never knew who you were," he said and that looked like it struck a chord in her. She looked like she was sorry. He was sorry. Sorry he'd ever met her.

"You'll be alright," he said, feeling guilt then at the hurt look on her face. She made him feel guilty, angry, and sad. He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, and handed her money.

"Go on, get yourself cleaned up and get something to eat. That's for the front desk. Tell them Tommy Shelby sent you if they give you trouble."

She took the money.

"Go to hell," she spat before turning her back on him. He sat at the wheel, watching the door. When he was sure she was inside and wasn't going to give him the slip, he drove off.

 _I know who killed him. Higher up._

What did she expect him to do? Take on the government? Place a hit out on Winston Churchill? He could give her a place to stay, keep her safe for a while. He'd get her a ticket back to America, out of the country, somewhere far away. Anything more would be putting everything he had at risk. She just didn't fit. She couldn't and she was delusional to think otherwise. He didn't need to flip a coin to come to that conclusion.

When he returned to the house and the parlor, May wasn't there.

"Mrs. Shelby's riding out back, Mr. Shelby," the butler told him. " If you'd like I can get one of the stableboy to call her in…"

"No, I'll wait," he said. He wasn't going to push her. He'd let her ride and when she came in, they'd talk.

He heard the phone ring in the downstairs office.

"Mr. Shelby, it's urgent," Anne said as she popped her head around the corner. The man says it's an emergency."

Tommy made his way directly to the office, compartmentalizing his personal feelings. He reached for the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Who is this?"

 _"Shelby, we've got ourselves a situation. Sabini's out."_

The last voice he wanted to hear on the other end was Alfie Solomons'.

 _Shit._


	6. Something Isn't Right

John and Arthur exchanged glances as Tommy and Grace disappeared, like a retreating whirlwind, slamming the Garrison door shut behind them with a bang that resounded around the bar. A strange hush fell over the room before Arthur burst out laughing. Everyone joined in with raucous guffaws and inebriated laughter, discussing Grace's mysterious return, the hot water "that devil" Tommy was in, before naturally, (as these conversations always went), forgetting about the incident completely and moving on to other more entertaining subjects.

"Can you bloody believe it? Arthur bellowed. "I thought we'd seen the last of her Johnny Boy."

John was barely listening. He had been stewing over a problem and he'd wanted to talk about it with Tommy, had been wanting to and hadn't had the opportunity to pull his brother aside to have the conversation. Now Tommy had shown up, but John still hadn't managed to bring the subject up because of the Irish barmaid.

"Oy, John, where's your head at?" Arthur clasped him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"My head's with the books."

Arthur looked vacantly at him.

"The ledgers. The business Arthur. Christ man what have you been drinking?"

"What about the business? It's all taken care of."

"Something's off," John said, shaking his head as the noise in the bar grew louder, drowning his words out. "Come in the back room with me, yeah?" He pointed a finger behind the counter leading to the back room.

Arthur, seeing how serious he was, nodded and they retreated to the office where John took out a heavy leather log book he'd been carrying with him in his coat. He set it on the desk and opened it in front of Arthur. Arthur looked at the pages, squinting, clearly not understanding.

John made a mental note not to talk about business when Arthur was drunk.

 _Except he's drunk all the time. Or on something._

Lately, Arthur had been acting unusual. Since the wedding, which honestly wasn't that long ago, there was a look in his eyes and a change in his behavior that couldn't just be explained away by too many glasses of bourbon.

John pointed exactly to what he was referring to in the book, the gaps, the inconsistencies with prices, transactions that differed so subtly, but were ultimately incorrect. It really was a challenge to bring Arthur around to what the problem was. It had taken John a while to figure out what he was looking at, at first.

"Have you talked to Mike?" Arthur asked, understanding at last. "See what he has to say?"

"I wanted to show someone else first," John said. The truth was, he didn't want to confront Michael first until someone else backed him up about what he was seeing. Specifically, he wanted to tell Tommy. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to reach Tommy because of the wedding, which was around the time he'd started looking into the books. He didn't want to go behind Michael's back, he just didn't want to be the one to tell him he'd made a mistake after working as hard as he did. Or maybe, he was a bloody coward not wanting to talk to him face to face.

 _Christ I've got enough going on in my personal life to be stirring up shit with my cousin._

He could see it, telling Michael to his face about the mistakes and getting Pol all involved in defending her son and the situation would all go to hell before John could even blink. If he told Tommy, Tommy would be able to navigate the situation and be Pol's target.

Arthur shrugged.

"Even the best race horses stumble," he said.

"Thanks Arthur," John replied dryly. Ever a source of sage advice, his brother Arthur was.

"Maybe… Arthur began, wagging a finger at him, his lips twisting into a grin, "Maybe what's got you rattled is that wife of yours. Having second thoughts about her? Bout Lizzie?" he asked, red faced and almost leering at him.

"Shut up."

John didn't want to talk about Lizzie or Esme, especially not with Arthur.

"I'm serious. Women troubles mess your head right up, get you all wound up and seeing double or crosseyed…. See you later yeah?" he called as John began walking out of the bar halfway through Arthur's soliloquy. He was in no mood to listen to Arthur's philosophizing about the mysterious nature of women.

He pushed the door open and strode out into the sunshine, looking both ways as he crossed the street and made his way back to the house. He avoided the streets past his old home, the heap of ash that was once his house. The walk back was uneventful, but he couldn't help feeling that something was off, something wasn't quite right, and that something was ultimately going to happen.

 _Maybe it IS_ _Esme and Lizzie._

He didn't quite know how he felt about the whole situation with the two women in his life. Oddly enough things were…. good between him and Esme after the wedding, more than good with her and the kids, almost as if they had never been bad, but he could''t forget, and he couldn't forget the nagging, the thought that pulled at his brain. He couldn't forget about Lizzie, peering through the door, and running down the stairs. The next thing he knew, Lizzie was moving her things out of Tommy's house without a word to anyone. Part of him thought maybe it was a good thing, her leaving Tommy and everyone else who'd wronged her.

 _Including me._

He shook his head, casting those thoughts away and rounding the street corner to the house. He saw Michael with a group of the Peaky Blinders, a cigarette rolled in his teeth, casually leaning against a wall, shooting the breeze with the boys, which was something John couldn't remember Michael doing. He usually removed himself from situations where he'd have to socialize, working on the books instead. Pol said he slaved over them. He even skipped meals.

 _He's making mistakes._

He felt bad for throwing Michael to the dogs. After all, the kid was trying his hardest to make it work, but John was counting up the errors, the mistakes that weren't that slight, and the closer he looked, the more he found. Tommy needed to know so the problem could be corrected. Maybe the work was too much for his cousin. Maybe he needed a holiday.

 _Maybe I need a holiday._

Esme was still pushing for that farm out in the country. Her eyes would light right up when she talked about a chicken coop, a garden, land for riding and a little place all their own. He did not want to talk about it, considering not long ago he had promised himself not to take his wife with him and the kids, but Lizzie. It wasn't a comfortable topic of conversation to say the least, which was why he decided not to say anything at all, not even when Katie started asking about buying a pony. John entered the house to find that no one was home. It was practically desolate.

Everyone had something to do to occupy their time except for him. He then decided to do something he hadn't dared of doing since the wedding: making a house-call to Tommy at his new place. He needed to talk to Tommy, so what better place to do that then his brother's new residence where the risk of Michael or Pol walking in on them would be slim to none? Odds were, Tommy wouldn't come back in his old office and he was sure May wouldn't mind him dropping in to speak with his brother. She seemed like a reasonable woman. So, he got the car, noticing that Michael and the boys were nowhere to be seen, and made the long drive to the mansion. He knocked on the door and was let in promptly by the butler who said Mr. Shelby was in the middle of an important phone call.

John heard Tommy's voice one floor up. He inhaled deeply, preparing what he was going to say and taking the ledger our of his pocket as he waited in the hall. Half an hour later, Tommy poked his head around the staircase and motioned for John to come up the stairs.

 _Must have been a very important call._

" Tommy?" John asked as he entered his brother's new office. An odd look was on his brother's face and for a moment it seemed to John that he was agitated and on edge. Tommy's face cleared and he turned his full attention to John.

"What?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"The books are off," John said. He flipped the ledger open to a dog eared page. Tommy motioned him over to the desk.

"Look here first," John began, pointing his finger, then trailing it down the list of numbers. "It's like we're… missing money." Tommy took the book from him, perusing Michael's neat writing, John had the feeling he wasn't really looking.

"What am I looking at?" he asked, confirming John's suspicion. John pointed to the page again. Tommy's eyes narrowed in concentration this time. He closed the book.

"I'll talk to Michael. He made a mistake. It looks harmless enough."

"Right," John replied.

For some reason that didn't make him feel any better. Michael wouldn't hear the end of this and he'd be under a lot more scrutiny. The kid's pride would take a hit.

"Look, I'm not trying to rat on him, but I just…"

"I'll handle it, John," Tommy cut him off. John studied him.

"Is everything alright,Tommy?" he asked, noticing the dark circles under his brother's eyes and wondering for the first time, why he was even here or running around with Grace when he was married. Where was his wife anyway? What had happened to Grace since the two had made a scene at The Garrison?

"John, I have work to do."

John knew when he wasn't wanted. He also knew that he wasn't going to extract any more information from Tommy who now looked completely closed off, expressionless.

"Right," he said again. He turned and was escorted out the door. As he walked to his car, he thought about doing something fun with the kids after school let out. He also kept telling himself that Tommy would take care of the situation with Michael.

 _Wash your hands of it, John._ That's what Martha would say when he'd come home from a long day of work. _Wash your hands of it all._


	7. The Park

"Look at this: waterfront property, four bedrooms, a kitchen, a sunroom, everything you need right by the docks." Alfie read the listing theatrically as if it were the best piece of real estate in England.

Ada laughed as he lay back on the grass, folded the newspaper into a tent and placed it over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He put a hand behind his head, peering up through the paper and the sunlight creeping through it. Ada lifted the paper away from his eyes, momentarily blinding him with sunshine. She leaned over him, kissing his cheek first then moving to his lips. Alfie was quite enjoying the sun on his face and the kisses.

Once Karl had been set up and was flying his kite by the pond like a champion, he and Ada had spread out on the grass under a tree, lolling about, sharing an ice cold bottle of champagne from his "bakery", some snacks, and making an altogether pleasant day of it. He closed his eyes, feeling Ada's hair tickling his face, listening to the buzzing insects, and birds, listening to the indistinguishable drone of other conversations. One of them stood out crystal clear and made him refocus.

"That's a nice looking kite you've got there," a raspy voice said in a sickeningly amiable voice.

"Thanks," Karl's voice said, hesitant, uncertain, soft. Alfie immediately was on his guard.

"Where'd you get it? Mum and Dad buy it for you? Are they here now?"

His eyes flew open and he lurched into a seated position, clamping down on his teeth as his back screamed with pain. He tasted blood on his tongue and felt something rip.

 _Damned stitches._

"Alfie, what's.." Ada looked alarmed now and quickly followed his gaze, which was riveted on Karl standing by the edge of the pond and a small wiry non distinct looking man stood next to him, an Italian by the looks of him wearing clothing that resembled the type of get-up of a certain Italian mobster he'd crossed. Alfie grabbed his cane, staggering to his feet and heading towards the pond.

He'd knock that bastard's teeth in and smash his face to a pulp if he even laid a hand on Karl. He curbed that impulse although his grip tightened around his cane. Ada followed swiftly behind him.

"Karl," she called, motherly protective instinct kicking in when she focused on this stranger talking to her son.

 _Should've set up shop closer to the pond. Shouldn't have taken our eyes off the kid._

He didn't want Ada to beat herself up for not keeping her eye on her son. If anyone were to blame it was him, distracting her, distracting himself and not being as vigilant as he normally was.

 _Mistakes like that get you killed._

"Best be on your way now yeah?" he said forcefully, staring the man down with a threatening glare. He was short and thin and not very solid. Alfie could take him down with one fell swoop, except then he'd be arrested for murder in a public park. There were cops patrolling the grounds.

The man put his hands up disarmingly, giving a gap toothed grin that didn't fool Alfie. He didn't see a gun, the man wouldn't be stupid enough to bring one on a reconnaissance mission, but Alfie knew he might have a sharp little dagger attached to his dusty boots that he could slip into a hand while pretending to tie his laces.

"Just wanted to know where the boy got his kite. My boy's begging for one. You must be this young lad's mum and dad. No harm meant. Didn't mean to scare you." He said nodding at Ada who put a hand on Karl's shoulder, drawing him close in a protective motion. Alfie felt her eyes trained on him, but he kept his eyes locked on this stranger. He saw the dangerous glint in this man's eyes, the wicked gleam offset by that hideous gap toothed grin. He was one of Sabini's right hand men and at the moment, he couldn't remember his name.

"Got to keep the kids close these days. He looked up at the sky at Karl's green kite still in the air. Nice day for flying kites. Enjoy the rest of your day."

They'd packed up their things then and driven quietly back to Ada's. Well, _he_ was quiet. Ada was asking him if the man had frightened and/or threatened him and concluded by telling him not talk to strangers. She'd been very insistent on driving that point home and Alfie remembered she was the sibling of a mobster. She'd be wary of anyone approaching her or her son. She'd been wary of him when they'd first met. It was a god-given miracle that they were together now. Actually, it was a Scott with a butcher knife, but he wasn't going to dwell on the dead man when a live threat was standing right in front of him.

She parked the car in the drive and after scanning the house and seeing that the lock wasn't tampered with, he said he'd needed to make a call outside. Of course that looked suspicious, but he wasn't going to call from the house. He'd think of an acceptable reason why he had to make the phone-call there as he went along.

He watched the two enter the house, waited, scanned the street and made his way to the nearest phone booth, which thankfully wasn't far from the house at all. He didn't know if he could take a long walk in this heat.

When he reached the booth, he looked out through the glass, scanning the street again for any suspicious figures, then looked back at the house. No sign of Ada or Karl.

The booth was hot, the air stifling in the enclosed space. Perspiration was dripping down his forehead and arms, and he could feel blood running down his back. It really had turned out to be a scorcher of a day.

He'd been looking forward to a little kite flying with Karl, a nice day out with his girl, and maybe, maybe a cold lemonade at the end of the day, but no. The Italian had to get out and start another vendetta. One of the servants answered the phone and he immediately asked for Thomas Shelby.

"He's…"

"It's an emergency," Alfie cut in, casting another glance at the house. When he got Shelby on the phone he said,

"Shelby, we've got ourselves a situation. Sabini's out." Being the head of a crime ring, he paid attention to details, clothing, mannerisms. The man at the park had clearly wanted to be recognized by Alfie. Well, the damn message was received and he wasn't going to accept it. He wasn't going to take this threat to Ada and Karl's safety lightly.

"Tell me everything."

Alfie complied and went into a detailed account of the situation. He even remembered the man's surname name. Rossi.

Once everything was out in the open, Tommy said he'd be in touch. Alfie hung up the phone and headed back into the house to find Ada in the hall.

"Alfie, is everything alright?" she asked and he saw her eyes travel to his torso.

"These damn stitches," he said, raising his hands and pressing them against a wet spot on his back. They'd split. His eyes traveled around the room, trying to pinpoint Karl's location. He spotted the boy in the corner, rolling the kite string back around the bobbin.

"Sorry, didn't mean to swear in front of…"

"Sit down," Ada said, guiding him over to a chair. "Karl, run and get mummy the first aid kit and a bowl with hot water. I knew that walk wasn't a good idea. Small steps Alfie, that's what the doctor said."

"Small steps are impossible love, my feet are too large."

He tried to keep the conversation light as she patched and stitched him up again, cleaned the wounds with water and soap that stung as she did so.

"I mean it Alfie. You've been so good to me and Karl. We care about you. Don't overextend yourself." She smoothed the bandages out.

"If you don't take care of these you're going to wind up back in that hospital for another week, maybe two. You have to be careful."

She caressed his face, and he saw her expression, saw the wariness creep into her eyes as she looked directly into his own. That look was unnerving, very attractive, but unnerving.

"Who was that man at the park?"

The question was blunt, direct. Alfie knew that he couldn't lie and say he didn't know him at all, so he thought of something that was closer to the truth.

"That fellow's been causing trouble at the bakery, lurking around, tried to make off with some of the merchandise. Don't know his personal situation, but he's got a bit of a grudge against me for making a spectacle of him in the shop when I caught him pickpocketing some of the customers, including members my staff."

"And that's why you looked as if you wanted to murder him when he got near Karl?"

 _She's definitely not buying this._ She was probably thinking she and her son were being targeted.

 _And she wouldn't be wrong._

"Ever since the attack I've been….

 _Tense, Jittery, think of a word Solomons._

"When I heard him, talking to Karl, I overreacted."

"You overreacted?"

It was the best he could do on the spot.

"I was calling the clerk at the bakery outside, telling him to keep an eye out for him… and the police. I didn't want to scare Karl by making the call in here."

"What's his name?"

"Ames," Alfie lied, "Leonardo, or Lennie Ames, or some such. He's got Italian blood in him, must be on the mother's side."

 _Blood I'm going to spill if he even thinks of sniffing around me._

He wasn't going to let a shark circle around them. That's why you harpooned them.

After he came up with the conclusion to that cooked up story and answered few more questions from a skeptical Ada, she left him to dispose of the bloody bandages. He thought he was done with the interrogations, but the phone inside the house started ringing now. He picked it up and Tommy immediately began explaining their next steps going forward, a reiteration of their earlier conversation. His own personal feelings for the man aside, it was clear that they had two things in common: Ada and Karl.

"Who's that?" Ada called reentering the room. He could see the suspicion on her face. It dawned on him that she wasn't going to let this little incident slide, which would inevitably bring her closer to discovering his true occupation and the connection to her brother who was dictating to him a list of commands, like an annoying buzzing gnat.

"Your brother's apologizing to me," Alfie said loudly enough so that Tommy could hear on the other end and shut up in front of his sister. Shelby caught on and ceased the strategizing talk. Alfie brought the phone to his ear again.

 _She's going to question these long conversations._

Shelby had him trapped for over a a bloody half hour in that insufferably hot box.

"Right, glad we could clear this up. Take care now."

He hung up the phone and looked at Ada whose arms were crossed. Karl was watching them from the hall, nervous and pretending to keep on winding string.

"Alfie, are Karl and I in danger?"

"No," he said, firmly and with confidence. She didn't take her eyes off of him. It felt like an eternity before she broke eye contact first and told Karl to freshen up. She then proceeded to order him to sit still and relax. Right about then Alfie was anything but relaxed. He almost felt like biting his nails. Ada went into the kitchen to prepare some mid-day snack and drinks before dinner, giving him a few blessed moments to collect himself. He rubbed his hand across his jaw, and pulled himself together just in time as Ada returned with…

"Fresh lemonade," he exclaimed, grinning as she brought out a pitcher of the ice cold beverage and glasses. "You read my mind."

"Cheers," she said, clinking glasses, but Alfie wasn't fooled. She was stubborn, like her brother, and she wasn't going to drop this subject completely. The thought crossed his mind that she might have spiked the drink to loosen his tongue into a confession, but that seemed a little extreme.

 _You're too paranoid Solomons._

She was watching his face intently, which made him uneasy. Thankfully, Karl came down and Alfie began quizzing him about what he'd learned at school. Time passed, dinner came and went, and soon Ada was tucking Karl into bed. It would have been a perfect day. It should have been perfect except for that Sabini scout and talking so soon to Tommy Shelby after that uncomfortable lunch with his aunt.

"Goodnight, Alfie," she said, resting her hand on his shoulder and leaning down to give him a kiss goodnight. All traces of wariness and suspicion had left her face.

"Night love," he said before she turned and walked up the stairs. Alfie followed her retreating figure with his eyes and then looked at the locked door.

 _Won't be sleeping much tonight._


	8. Michael

_Earlier that day:_

The door closed behind Michael after the cop told him he had five minutes with the prisoner.

 _More than enough time._ He had requested a private room, slipping a decent amount of money into the bought cop's hand.

"Sabini," he said when they were finally alone. He studied the mobster who had his hands cuffed and an expression on his face resemblant of one who had smelled something rotten, or had recently consumed curdled milk. Then again, maybe that was his natural expression. He sat with one leg chained to a table. The man's face turned purple when he saw Michael.

"Shelby scum," he spat, clearly aware of who he was. This friendly introduction was followed by several expletives. Michael drowned them out. His time was precious and the man was incorrect.

 _I'm a Gray, not a Shelby._

"You and I need to have a little chat," he said, pulling a chair leaning against the wall, up to the table and taking a seat, lacing his fingers together. "Seeing as we both have commonalities…"

"Oh commonalities, you're a smartmouthed little…"

" A shared detestation for particular people. Like Alfie Solomons,"

"Solomons! That backstabbing sonof a …"

"Actually, he was stabbed in the back not long ago. He's still recovering and he's a perfect target for… Michael paused and leaned in close, " you know." He gave the Italian a conspiratorial wink.

He saw the spark of interest light in Sabini's piggish little eyes. Michael had him.

 _There's the hook._

"You came here to talk about the Jew? Want to do him in? What'd he do to you?"

"No, I came me here primarily to talk about the Shelbys." He waited, letting that sink into the man's head. Say all you wanted about Sabini, call him violent, repulsive, vulgar, and crass, but he wasn't an idiot, or much of one. The mobster laughed.

"Turning on your own family? That's…"

There was a disturbance, yells out in the hall. Both of them paused momentarily in the conversation. Michael turned to look back at the mobster when the noises quieted down and the scuffling ceased.

"Let us recommence," he said, plastering a smile on his face.

"How are you going to swing this?"

"I have connections."

Specifically, unlimited access to the Shelby money. The power was literally in his hands. Fudge the books, go to the bank, siphon the funds etc., etc.

"What's in it for you?" Sabini asked, his eyes narrowing.

He was smart enough not to ask what was in it for him. Michael had just served him Solomons and Shelby on a silver platter. It was a smart move, asking _him_ about his motivations.

"Money," he said calmly, and Sabini laughed.

"That's cold. That's some f…"

"I'll be in touch," Michael said, growing bored and tired of the obscenities spewing out of the mobster's mouth. Sabini was incredibly one dimensional in person, but even a one note swearing mobster could do damage to his cousin. He'd beaten Tommy to an inch of his life before, he'd do a better job next time. He left the prison, but not before slipping more money into a few more cops' hands. He had been careful to avoid cops that were loyal to Tommy and the Blinders, so word wouldn't get back to anyone. Sabini would be out by the evening and then the fun would begin. He smiled as he walked out of the prison. He would have rubbed his hands together in glee, but that would look a bit odd. There would be time enough to celebrate once it was all over.

"Oy Michael!" His head jerked up as Isaiah appeared in his vision, grinning. " The boys and I are going out tonight. It's pay-day."

"Sorry Isaiah, I'm busy," he said, letting his face fall.

"Got a girl?" Isaiah asked immediately. Always a cheerful rogue, Isaiah was. It was a shame that he had to fall along with the other members of the gang because he did have a soft spot for the preacher's son.

"Work."

"Man, you've got to lighten up. All work and no play…"

 _Makes Jack a very rich boy._

"Some other time," he said, grinning again. Isaiah strode off, hands in pockets, shaking his head. Michael, stick in the mud, Gray.

It must be nice, living such a simple existence, blindly following the Peaky Blinders and living payday to payday. What a life, what a delusion. He came upon the house and saw some of the other Blinders, some of his "friends." They were loitering about, razor blade caps tilted, so sure of themselves. Usually he was too busy to chat, but his spirits were so high that he decided it wouldn't hurt to spark up a conversation. Being too isolated would rouse suspicion. He leaned against the front gate and put a cigarette in between his teeth. He offered everyone a smoke and they all flocked to him.

"Hear it's pay-day boys," he said, rolling his cigarette between his teeth and imaging smoking a cuban cigar in the sun. "Better make the most of it."

 _Before you all end up rotting in a prison cell._

He grinned and made some more mindless small talk. He didn't look at him, but he was aware of John walking back to the house, looking as if he were thinking hard about something.

 _Poor sap._

Esme per his order had John wrapped around her finger again and _he_ had the noose around her neck, ready to pull if she stepped out of line. Pesky little Lizzie had moved out shortly after the wedding, freeing up a room in the house. Michael didn't really think much about her, or much about most of the family.

 _Except Tommy._

Tommy was fascinating; difficult to read on most occasions and calculating. Michael initially found him infuriating because he was intrigued by his older cousin and couldn't quite figure him out. John was a sap. Arthur was an addict. Pol was an overbearingly emotional woman, but Tommy… Tommy was a different sort of character altogether.

 _A flawed character._

The man's achilles heel was his family. These people who buzzed around him like vultures on a dying carcass would be his downfall. Fortunately, being a member of said family gave him an advantage, a fresh perspective on how to bring Tommy to his knees. He was still difficult to read but at least Michael knew how to push his buttons. And he intended to push until Tommy broke.

"What're you so happy about?" Finn's voice snapped him back to reality. The boy was rounding the corner, hands in pockets as he approached the front of the house.

"It's been a good day Finn, a very good day," he said, tossing his cigarette to the ground and crushing it underneath his heel. He turned away before Finn could ask any more questions and unlocked the door to the house. Normally, Finn wasn't very loquacious, but Michael didn't want to take his chances with talking to too many people. He might not be able to contain himself.

 _And we wouldn't want that._

He had to be calm, cool, collected for what was to come. Finn didn't follow him inside, but walked past the house down some alley, most likely to rendezvous with his group of rag tag pals.

 _Enjoy it while it lasts._


	9. Lizzie Part Two

Lizzie felt the tears sting her eyes as she dropped her suitcase in the mud.

"Let me help."

Lizzie looked up and saw Isaiah making his way towards her. His flat cap was tilted and he was smoking a cigar. He looked as if he weren't expecting to see her. Lizzie looked down, not wanting to encounter one more Peaky Blinder.

"Lizzie, it's me… Isaiah."

"Isaiah, I'm very busy and I don't have time…"

"Where are you off to?" he cut in.

Lizzie remained silent.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" Isaiah pressed.

"I was renting a place, I just need to get my keys back…"

"I'll walk with you. I know these streets like the back of my hand. My dad's always peddling pamphlets around here, I used to go with him so I know the fastest routes."

"Thank you," she said slowly, wary as to his sudden attention to her.

They all know what I am.

They walked together and Isaiah chatted to her as if they were good friends.

"Oh no. I left something back at… back at Tommy's.

"What'd you leave?"

"A necklace, it belonged to my mother. She gave it to me and it's gone.."

"I'll get it back for you," he said easily.

"You'd do that?"

"Got nothing better to do right now. I've got some time. Wait here."

He turned and loped back to the prison she kept trying to flee from without success, mystified why anyone in their right mind would want to help a low call girl like her.

 _Stop it Lizzie. He offered to help. That's all you should read into it. An offer you can accept or refuse. You accepted. Move on from there._


	10. Finn

"If you keep quiet, I'll pour you a drink."

"What if I don't?" Finn asked, eyeing Michael across the room. Fin knew he wasn't supposed to be in Tommy's office. He also knew Michael shouldn't have been in Tommy's office at that particular moment in time. It didn't take a genius to figure out when someone was trying to pull one over on someone else, just a pair of eyes.

"Then you get nothing… and I'll tell Pol all about that girl you're seeing. Penny isn't it?" Michael asked.

"I'll have the drink," Finn said.

Might as well get a drink out of it if he was being threatened with blackmail.

"That's the spirit." Michael said, pouring more of the bottle, which was half empty.

"You've been drinking a lot of it?" he asked, nodding at the bottle.

"You don't miss much," Michael replied. He set the bottle down on the edge of Tommy's desk and leaned forward.

"So, Finn, you want to be a Peaky Blinder. Rule number one… don't question where the alcohol comes from."

"You don't make the rules. Tommy does."

"Nothing gets past you."

Finn had the sense Michael was making fun of him, and that he was drunk.

"So this girl of yours, you been seeing her long?" Michael persisted.

"Nope."

"Come on, cousin, you've got to give me more than that."

"Pour me another drink and I'll say something."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"Oy! what are you two doing?" Finn turned around to see Isaiah in the doorway and he took that arrival as his time to exit, making a b line for the door and out of that particularly messy situation.


	11. Isaiah

"You ruined some cousin bonding time."

"What are you doing? Isaiah asked, closing the door behind him and giving Michael his full attention. "Tommy still works here and it's the middle of the day."

"What's Tommy going to do, kill me? Sue me, I'm drinking."

"You're drunk. Man, what's going on with you? You don't want to go out anymore. You don't want to meet any girls. You've got your nose in papers all the time, and you're still coming back here and swiping the alcohol."

"You didn't have a problem the night of the wedding."

"I thought it was a one time thing, but look at you.. That bottle's almost gone. And Pol's going to kill you for giving Finn that alcohol."

"What are you, my mother?"

" I'm your friend mate…"

Michael was acting odd, acting drunk.

"You know what's interesting? Michael asked, wagging a finger at him. You and Lizzie. I saw the two of you down the road and I'm guessing, she sent you to get the stuff she left behind and you're being the dutiful errand boy. That right there won't work."

Isaiah found that offensive.

"Why not?"

"Come on man, the preacher's son and the prostitute? You can do better than her. Lizzie's damaged goods and she's getting old."

"Mike, you're drunk so I'm going to let this go, but you need to shut your mouth. You're disrespecting a woman right there."

"You're going to talk like that to me? Who do you think you are?"

Isaiah heard the undertones the implied superiority and it shocked him. He didn't get it. This was the guy who'd made a big show of taking him out on the town and having a drink with him.

"Well, I may not be a Peaky Blinder, but I've got the books and the alcohol and right now, I can do whatever I want. I can spill a little of this on Tommy's desk and no one can do anything, unless you want to clean it up."

"That's it. We're getting out of here."

Isaiah grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Michael shoved him, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Christ man, what is your problem?! What the hell is this? You don't talk down to me, not to your friend. I'm a Peaky Blinder. Show some respect."

Isiah pulled him out of the office, slamming the door so forcefully the beams shook, shoved Michael away from him then, for his own well being took the stairs down two at a time. He felt the necklace in his pocket, bouncing up and down as he thudded down the stairs.

He took the steps two at a time out into the fresh air, made a few laps around the compound, before finding Lizzie a few blocks down the street.

"Thank you," she said as he slid the necklace into her hands.

"Do you want to go dancing?" he blurted out. A startled look crossed her face.

"Dancing?"

"I know a place. I know lots of places. Let's go dancing. Tonight. 8:00.

"Isaiah what's wrong?"

 _I'm sick and tired of people telling me what I can and can't do. Where I can and can't go. Who I can and can't ask to dance. I just want to live my life and I want to live it with you._

He'd wanted to punch Mike in his fat mouth. Drunk or not that was low what he said about Lizzie and what he was implying about him, his so called best friend.

"Yes or no?"

"Well…"

 _Damn it she's going to say no._

He knew about the work she'd done. He knew she was hung up on John still, but John left her out in the cold and he wasn't here asking her out on the town tonight and he was.

"One night, Lizzie," he said. "That's all. One night to show em all how to have a good time yeah? What do you say?"

"Yeah," she said to his surprise and relief. Otherwise he'd look like a damned fool.

"I'll pick you up 7:30 alright?"


	12. Face to Face

"Get out," Tommy said, and Isaiah walked out of the room without a word.

"You have five seconds to explain what is going on in here."

"Finn wanted alcohol, was trying to filch the keys and I figured if he was going to do it, I'd chaperone. Pol's going to pitch a fit.. Isaiah found us and thought something was wrong, but it's fine."

 _Not exactly five seconds but it'll work._

"Get out of my chair."

 _Rude._

"Something wrong?"

"Tell me what's wrong with this."

Michael scanned the ledgers then looked up at him, doing his best to look confused and trying not to laugh.

 _Damn it I'm drunk._

 _"_ I don't…"

"The numbers…"

His mind was whirling. Then he had it.

"The price of…"

"It's a mistake."

"I didn't do this… look, see that? That nine… my hand doesn't shake like that. And the smudges. Someone's gone back in here. You know, Arthur's smudged figures before…" he said as innocent as he could. He knew about the cocaine, had seen Arthur snorting it when he should have been working. Tommy did too and that's what he'd counted on.

"Tommy?"

"Out of the office, now." He said and Michael walked out. Tommy followed behind him, taking out his key and turning the lock. "Going somewhere?"

"If I ever catch you or Finn in there stealing alcohol I'm telling Pol and she has free reign to get you train ticket a ticket home. Understand?"

 _That was rather harsh._

Something had Tommy rattled and he knew exactly what it was.

 _Good._


	13. Arthur

"Oy Tommy, wasn't expecting you…"

 _Shit shit shit bloody shit._

White powder was all over the table, a cloud of dust hanging in the air. He tried covering the table with papers, some magazines, but it was a last ditch effort as Tommy walked into the room.

"Shut up."

Tommy pointed a finger at him.

"You've been forging documentation. Let me break this down for you. You've been going back in the books, the ledgers and you've been spending money on coke. That's what's going on here."

 _What?_

"First John, then Michael, told me something was wrong and… look at yourself. Look at this shit." He gestured at the table. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Yeah, I'm still using but I wouldn go back in the books and…"

"Did you go to the bank, get the money? How much have you spent Arthur?"

"I'm not using the family money. I'm not…."

"Why the hell should I believe you. Look at you! I knew I should've.."

"Now hold on hold on. No that's not right. I would.."

"You clean this up. I swear Arthur I'm sending you to a sanatorium. I mean it this time. You're going to get clean. You hear me?"


	14. The Bank

"The banker had glazed over eyes.

He needed to know where the money was coming from and how much had been squandered on the  
Damn cocaine.  
"A check was cashed for a Mr. John Shelby on a payment for a new house in…"  
 _Oh so that's the game we're playing now is it?_  
Tommy did not even wait for the teller, or banker, or whoever the hell he was to finish his monologue. There were more important conversations to be had. 


	15. John

"I can explain," John said. "

"Do you really want to destroy this family, just to get back at me. What's it for, the pigmy goats and your wife?"

"Look, Esme was pushing me to ask you for a loan…"

"A loan? So you decide to go behind my back and take out cash for a house?"

John blinked, confused.

"What?"

Tommy looked furious. John couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten so angry.

"After everything I've done for you, for the kids, hell even for Esme? After the fire, after everything we went through with Churchill and the wedding and you turn and stab me in the back!"

"Wait just a second. Tommy, if it were me why would I come to you and say oy Tommy something's not right with the books. Why would I bloody lead you back to me?! I'm not an idiot!"

That looked like it floored his brother.

"Jesus Christ Tommy, I wouldn't do that to you. You're my brother and if I did, I'd be smarter about it."

"The teller told me the check was in your name. Mr. John Shelby."

"Well it bloody hell wasn't me. I don't have the information to your bank. I don't… Oy, where are you going?"

Tommy turned and walked out the door. John followed him out, determined to get to the bottom of this.


	16. Click

"What the hell is going on Tommy?"  
"Michael impersonated you, John, and took out money in your name. He's been tampering with the books.  
 _He lied to my face._  
 _Click._  
It all fell into place.  
Tommy breathed fully for the first time that day.  
 _Time to plan._


	17. Unraveling

"Where's the money?" Sabini barked. Michael shifted uneasily in the chair. Time was running out and Sabini was losing whatever trace amount of patience he had.

"Look, can we put the money on hold? Tommy can't suspect…"

"I don't give a damn about your family situation. You promised me money, I'd better get my money."

"Something tells me you're in over your head," another man, an Italian with an American accent inserted himself into the conversation. You don't mess with Sabini. You don't mess with Sabini's family. You're in our house. You mess with one of ours you might find yourself missing a finger, or a hand, or your tongue, or something below the belt.. Am I making myself clear?"

Michael looked from Sabini, to the Italian to a third man seated in the shadows by the wall, brushing specs of dust off his business suit.

This third man with the New York City suits terrified Michael, not because he said anything, but because he said absolutely nothing, as if he, Michael, were a ghost, a spirit to be ignored, absolutely nothing. He wasn't one of Sabini's goons, no. He was something else, but he didn't have time to think of that because he NEEDED money to pay off Sabini.


	18. We Meet Again

"We meet again Tommy," Alfie said in another moment of deja vu.

"Alfie," Tommy said, skipping the formalities and pleasantries and the little dance he and the baker were forever entwined in.

"Tommy," Alfie replied. "What brings us together on this glorious evening?"

"There's a situation."

"Hmm?"

"A predicament," Tommy said, refusing to utter the words Alfie was trying to pry out of him, the ones that acknowledged that he needed the man's assistance.

"A serious predicament?"

"A legitimate predicament."

Alfie scrunched up his facial features, looking more like a wolf.

"Well that does sound serious. Care to disclose?"

"To a certain extent."

"Your office or mine?" Alfie asked.

"By the barge by the docs, where it's quiet."

"Oh this IS serious."

Tommy took out a cigarette and a lighter. Alfie twirled his cane, twisting it so that the tip at the end made spiral indentations in the dirt.

"After you," he said, motioning for Tommy to take the lead, but Tommy kept alongside him, kept pace. Alfie was neither ahead nor behind. Trained horses kept pace with one another, so would Alfie.


	19. Put On Your Dancing Shoes

"Ladies and gentlemen put on your dancing shoes."

Tommy suppressed a cringe as the overly jovial announcer made this remark. He scanned the foyer. Alfie with Ada dressed to the nines to his left close to the door. Ada on Alfie's arm in a black and gold evening gown. To his right, Lizzie and Isaiah, a strange combination by the bar. Pol….

 _What is she doing here?_

He saw Polly dancing with an Italian. Wasn't there supposed to be some artist in the picture?

 _Can't think about that now._

Grace.

No, a blonde who looked like Grace from the back of the head. There was a woman with her with wide eyes and a wicked gleam to her lips, a foreigner, Russian.

 _Focus._

Michael in a booth, drinking straight whiskey, seemingly alone, but Tommy saw the beady eyes of Sabini's toadies, eyeing him like fresh meat.

The trap was set. Everything was in position as he started to count backwards.

 _One hundred_

 _Ninety-nine_

 _Ninety- eight_

The lights went off as scheduled.

Time to close in.


	20. Reckoning

Tommy yanked the cloth bag over Michael's head after Johnny Dogs hauled him into the storehouse and sat him down in a wooden chair under a single oil lamp emitting yellow light.

"Damn it Michael, why'd you go and do this?"

All of it, trying to kidnap Ada at the dance, trying to inflict pain and suffering; this wasn't the Michael he knew.

Tommy couldn't help some emotion creep into his voice.

Michael began shaking his head, trying to pry his hands free.

"Oh no… No no no… this this is all on you. You and your family," he spat. Tommy took out another cigarette, gave Michael a long look then lit the end.

 _Let him speak._

"Pol's version of the story is that we were helpless unaware babes torn from her loving arms. No, you see I was old enough to remember Anna, to remember a lot of things, our separation and she was the one who told me to be strong. I'd write on pieces of paper these idiotic little advertisements looking for my sister looking for Anna and the people at the homes, they'd tear them up, right in front of me. I vowed one day I'd get the money and I'd find her. I'd bring her home. I was working on this for my whole life until you come and tell me who I am and that my sister's dead. Everything went up in smoke then, but don't worry you're one of the family, you can come and stay with your whore of a mother who neglected you and your brutish cousins and have their scraps. Then Pol makes a show of kicking me out, trying to spare me, save me with a train ticket. Well it was far too late for that and I vowed I'd take everything you had for my own and show you all how it feels."

Tommy put his hand up to stop the babble.

"Michael, Ada's a mother. You'd be doing the same thing to Karl as Pol did to you. Can you live with that?" Michael's betrayal would put Ada in the line of fire, potentially orphaning his nephew or worse, getting the boy killed.

"You don't give a damn about me. All you care about is yourself and getting what you think you deserve."

"That's not what we're doing here at all.

Tommy took out a gun from his breast pocket and fired one shot.


	21. Aftermath

All I wanted was the best for him," She brought the handkerchief to her eyes. Those were real tears.

"He's alive, Pol." Tommy saw that his words did nothing to ease his aunt's fears for her only surviving child. He had to make it appear as if he were dead, but Pol knew the truth, or part of it at least.

"He's in a sanatorium. He's lost his wits."

"He needed help Pol. That night, he put the gun to his head…"

It was a lie, but it had to be told in order to get Michael institutionalized without question. That was a better fate than being thrown to Sabini. It was a better fate than Michael deserved.

"I can't hear this. I can't go along with this. My baby. Solomons…"

Solomons wasn't going to go anywhere

"Solomons doesn't know who was responsible. He thought Michael was coerced and that's how it's going to stay."

"Sabini was coercing him," Polly insisted.

Tommy said nothing. She wouldn't hear it, that Michael was the one who made the proposal to Sabini. He wouldn't tell her what her son said about her and Anna. It would break her heart.

"He'll be fine," she said. He will be fine and once he's fine there's Australia. There's always Australia and the Americas.

 _Not just yet._

She was leaping ahead, but he did not dissuade or reprimand her. Everything would come out in its own time.


	22. Surprise

"Look.. I've got to come clean about something, there's no other way around it. I'm not a baker, I'm the head of an organized crime ring."

"I know. I put it together. You know my brother. I'm not blind."

"So, I understand if you want to part ways, right here and now what with the lying and all and the danger…."

"Alfie, I'm pregnant."

"What?"

He grabbed her arm.

"Alright love, we're going to settle this."

"What are you doing…."

"We both know the boy's not dead so there's no reason to mourn.. We're getting you to a church or a temple or some other sanctified place of holy worship so we can settle this right now. I can't bend on one knee and it's not appropriate right here, but God as my witness, we're getting married today!"


	23. No One Can Ever Know

"No one can ever know what you did, is that clear?"

Esme nodded, fear rising inside her as Tommy stood by his desk and poured himself a drink.

"You are never going to tell John about the staged affair, the house, the fire, Tilda, the kids, the blackmail. And if anything like that comes up again, you come to me and I'll square it all away. Don't you ever involve my niece and nephews again."

An unspoken threat hung heavily in the air.

She deserved it, the stern words. She deserved a lot more too, probably what was hidden, hanging in the air.

"Tommy…"

"Don't thank me. John loves you."

"I don't deserve it."

"You're right. You don't."

Esme inhaled and exhaled and left the office. She opened the door to see Katie holding a bouquet of scraggly wildflowers.

"Esme, Esme, look."

"Thank you sweetheart," she said, feeling her heart melt as she scooped the girl and the flowers into her arms.


	24. Grace's Secret

_"Take the money, Grace. For your ticket."_

 _"I'll make it on my own. Done it before, I'll do it again."_

 _She pulled the coat close to her._

 _"Where are you going to go?"_

 _"I'll figure it out, one way or another. Maybe I'll flip a coin."_

 _"Don't do that."_

 _"That's what you did, flipped a coin, called me up, took me out on the town."_

 _"Grace…"_

 _"Doesn't matter now I suppose. Have a nice life Tommy."_

 _"It would never have worked. The two of us."_

 _"Goodbye."_

"You're home early."

Grace rested her eyes on him, her naive, stupidly unaware fool of a husband.

He kissed her on the cheek.

Her secret was that she'd made the greatest mistake of her life. May had been right all along except for one caveat: It was Tommy's child. Her husband was sterile.

 _I am having this child. I am having this child._

She knew she was going to name the child Charlie and that he would be part of his father's life.

 _I will find a way for Charlie's sake._

She reached into her reticule and stopped as a primly folded piece of paper caught her eye. A check? A note? Blackmail?

She opened it, delicately unfolding the pristine white leaves with one sentence.

 _Let me know when the child is due._

A small smile spread across her lips and tears clouded her eyes.

"Damn you Tommy Shelby," she whispered, bringing a hand to her mouth before turning the paper over with a phone number.

Apparently her secret wasn't much of a secret after all and THAT was perfectly fine with her.


End file.
